To Labor Through the Winter Snow
by optimustaud
Summary: Shiro takes his first steps toward being a father to two not quite human children AU mix of anime/manga spoilers for end of anime Language
1. Chapter 1

I initially wrote this story as a oneshot. I had a lot of ideas on how the twin's adoption took place, but I was not going to invest the time and energy necessary to complete a multi chaptered fic if no one was interested in reading it. Since I first posted this chapter I have gotten such a positive response that I have decided to go ahead and expand the fic. To that end I have made a few changes to this chapter since it was first posted. Thanks everyone who took the time to check out my fic.

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It was cold. It was a harsh penetrating cold that was impossible to ignore now that he was standing still. It bit through his thick leather boots, wormed into the threads of his clothing, and lashed at the exposed skin of his face and hands. In the midst of this deep freeze two newborns cooed softly against the rapidly cooling body of their mother. Mephisto had reliably disappeared, his footsteps ending not far from the entrance of the cave.

_Bastard_

Shiro pulled at his pockets for his pack of cigarettes. He had the stick firmly clasped between his lips before he caught himself. He snorted and spat the cigarette on the ground. The crumpled up pack soon joined it on the snowy floor. It was an absolutely ridiculous situation. A moment ago he had been prepared to kill the two Satan spawned brats and now he was worrying about the effects of second hand smoke.

Right now the most immediate problem was the frigid air. At the very least Shiro could be grateful that the snow had stopped. Shiro stripped the blanket from Yuri's still corpse. She lay, hands folded, on the cushion where she had given birth. The halo of impossible blue flowers tinted her features with a blue phosphorescent light. He studied that last small, determined smile frozen permanently on her face. Despite all she had suffered these last few months she had died content, satisfied with the knowledge that she had survived long enough to give her boys a chance at life.

Shiro looked away. There would be plenty of time later to brood. He needed to focus on the immediate problems. This mountain was crawling with low level demons and while they had protected Yuri he doubted they would take as kindly to his apparent theft of her children. Satan may not have been able to interfere directly in the affairs of Assiah, but that did not mean he was safe from any of the upper level demons he might have sent looking for the boys.

That left Shiro with the practical problem of getting two newborns to shelter and dealing with their mother's body. He lifted each child from its mother's side surprised by the size and weight of them. It was like holding a bird. He kept his grip firm and loose half afraid that he would crush them if he held too tightly.

Shiro wrapped the boys as tightly as he dared. He used his scarf to tie the boys securely against his chest in a makeshift papoose. He slid Kurikara into his belt and started back down the mountain. He could only hope that Yuri's body would rest undisturbed until he could bury her.

The mountain breathed silently in winter's hold. Snow crunched and whined beneath each step and Kurikara's weight thumped awkwardly against his calf. He was perfectly alone as he waded through the landscape; there was no other sound save his footstep and the soft cries of the twins as they stirred in slumber. Shiro moved carefully trying not to disturb the warm weight secured to his chest.

He looked down at the two dark heads resting against him. He must have been out of his damned mind. Exorcists kill demons; they don't carry them home like a pair of stray kittens.

Despite appearances these children were not human. Shiro examined the infants, first Rin then Yukio. Mouths slack, fists curled in sleep; the boys were completely oblivious to the danger they were in. All Shiro needed to do was leave them exposed to the animals and the elements.

Shiro clenched his fists. No. Whatever else these boys might be they were completely innocent. He was no more capable of leaving them to die than he was of killing them himself. Rin and Yukio were also human. That meant they could be raised to think and feel as humans' did.

After an hour Shiro's toes and fingers were numb with cold. His face was chapped dry. He headed towards Yuri's cabin cursing Mephisto every step of the way. He checked the boys as they started to coo softly in their sleep. They seemed to have been spared the effects of the cold. Most likely they would be waking soon. He finally made it back to the powdered foot path that lead to the cabin. In an instant he knew he was being watched.

Shiro inhaled sharply, his fingers itched for the crumpled pack of smokes he had left in the cave. He kept his pace steady and calm. He listened. He waited. Carefully, casually he tightened his belt around Kurikara and wrapped his arms securely around the boys. He would have no choice but to run. He focused on the cabin rising slowly in the distance. Whatever was coming for him would not want to hurt the son's of Satan and that gave him the chance he needed. He had no idea what he would do once he got in the cabin.

The ground shuddered beneath Shiro's feet. The trees around him gasped and shed their fine coat of powder snow. Shiro dug his heels into the snow and surged forward. He didn't look back, he didn't stop to think about what might be coming towards him or where it might be coming from; he just ran. The sudden burst of speed jostled the two infants awake. The boys started to wail.

Shiro stumbled over a patch of frozen snow, wrenching his ankle and straining his hamstrings as he twisted to keep his balance. He leapt forward keeping a tenuous hold on the sword and the two children. Shiro heaved up the stairs of the porch and crashed through the door using his left shoulder as a battering ram. He tripped over the edge of the door as he stumbled forward.

Shiro squeezed his eyes shut and twisted to his right side taking care to cradle the two squalling infants as he fell. He landed with all the grace of a drunken bear. He was immediately rolling forward again. He placed his hand on the ground to lever himself up when he noticed he was resting on a carpet colored the same delicate pink as a carnation. He paused for a moment in his confusion. That was when the sound of excited clapping hit his ears.

Mephisto was sitting cross legged in a recliner the same obnoxious color as the carpet. At his elbow was a tall cherry table with embroidered white doilies. An elegant tea set, white decorated with pink cherry blossoms sat on the table alone with a tall, nearly emptied pastry stand. Crumbs from the devoured sweets liberally littered Mephisto's lap. The curio cabinets displaying anime collectibles were the only clue this room was the refuge of the Director of True Cross Academy and not of an aging senile dowager.

Mephisto's body was bent forward slightly, his eyes wide in something a little more disturbing than hero worship as he continued with his ovation. He was wearing the same impeccably tailored suit he had worn at Yuri's death bed. His purple-blue hair clashed horribly against the overwhelmingly pink décor of the room.

For a long moment Shiro could do nothing more than stare stupidly at the demon who applauded him from his carnation colored throne. Mephisto stopped his clapping and snapped his fingers. Shiro watched as the door rose from the ground and realigned itself with the hinges before closing itself. Mephisto was now staring at him with dewy eyed admiration. _I am going to kill him _Shiro thought

"Amazing Fujimoto-kun, simply amazing. One man alone braving the elements and demons to bring these two children to safety. What courage, what skill . . ."

The infant boys were wailing now, their cries growing in intensity. Shiro clutched them against his chest. "So you were watching me the whole damn time," he barely managed to keep his voice even. He was tired, sore, cold and wet.

Mephisto maintained his wide eyed stare of innocence (and how a demon managed to pull off that look so well Shiro would never know). "Well . . . I might have checked in from time to time."

Mephisto stopped when he turned to look at Shiro, who by this point was shaking with a cold lethal rage. "In any case you three need to settle and then we need to plan."

_Plan?_ Shiro wondered, he supposed he would find out soon enough. "Where are we anyway?" he grumbled still unnerved by his sudden arrival.

"My private residence," he held a soft pink key between his thumb and forefinger. "I arrived at the cabin ahead of you and made you a path." He tossed the key casually and caught it again.

Shiro wrapped both arms around the wailing boys and pulled them closer to his chest. Mephisto sighed loudly. "Be realistic Fujimoto-kun. You would never have made it too the village and even if you had what would you have told them? Your only options were to hole up in that demon infested forest or return to True Cross Headquarters. "

Mephisto was right of course. The superstitious villagers would have gossiped. The story of an exorcist carrying two infants out of the forest would have gotten back to headquarters. It would be even more ridiculous to expect that no one at the Vatican would notice if he returned from his mission with two children.

Mepisto reached for the boys. "Here, I'll watch them. Go clean yourself up."

With Mephisto's aid he unwound the layers of blanket that had secured the boys to his chest. They eased the boys into a wide pink bassinet set in an unoccupied corner of the room. They were both screaming now keeping time and pitch with one another like a pair of yowling cats. Shiro's head was starting to pound.

"Do you have any idea what to do with human children?"

"Well . . . no. But, I've taken care of my younger brothers. It can't be all that different. They are half demon after all." Shiro turned to glare at Mephisto.

"Don't _you_ know?" the demon demanded. The two of them stood there glaring at each other. As a matter of fact, he did not. He had never had much opportunity to interact with small children. He went out of his way to avoid children.

Only that wasn't entirely true. This pink room reminded him of another child he had saved. Shura had clung to him after her rescue, but her adoration had unnerved him. He had left her in the care of the Vatican. For the first time in years he wondered where she was and how she was doing.

"I've got it!" Mephisto exclaimed. He clapped his palms together and disappeared in a flash of smoke that smelled faintly of cotton candy. He puffed back in a moment later with a female demon at his side.

Shiro openly stared at the creature standing at Mephisto's side. She was the very definition of sultry. She stood as tall as Mephisto. Her long blue-black hair hung down her back in a series of braids. The ends of her braids were decorated with scrimshaw and seashells. Her skin was a light blue green and dusted in places with iridescent scales that shimmered as the light washed over them. She moved with a sinuous snake-like grace.

Mephisto draped a companionable arm over her muscular shoulders. "Fujimoto-kun, this is Lamia."

"Lamia," Shiro deadpanned. Was Mephisto screwing with him?

Lamia smiled, baring rows of sharp fangs. She moved towards Shiro in such a way that his eyes were helplessly drawn to the fleshy curves of her hips. She brushed by Shiro and knelt over the twins. She reached out both hands and cupped one cheek on each of the boys. They quieted immediately. Two sets of blue eyes turned to stare solemnly at the demon woman.

Lamia licked her lips and leaned over the bassinet.

Shiro started towards the demon, fingers reaching instinctively for his absent shotgun.

"Lamia." It was Mephisto. His voice was light and playful. There was no hint of a threat in either his tone or expression. Even so, Lamia froze immediately as she spoke her name. Shiro saw her eyes widen with fear. Very slowly she pushed away from the boys.

Shiro eased back, still wary. He carefully watched Lamia as she soothed the two boys. She saw to their needs, pausing at times to give instruction to Shiro and Mephisto as she worked. It seemed that Lamia was a very competent nanny. When the boys were calmed and sleeping once more she rose from their bedside and looked over to Mephisto. He dismissed her with a nod. Trusting that Mephisto would do nothing to put the twins in danger he accepted the demons' offer of a shower.

Shiro stripped and scrubbed himself off quickly wishing that he could stand under the spray of the shower head and absorb the heat of the water. His body ached and the leg he had injured during his flight to the cabin was starting to throb unpleasantly. He would probably be walking with a limp later.

Of far greater concern was Mephisto's handling of Lamia. According to the records of the True Cross she was a very old, very powerful succubus. Even so, she had obeyed Mephisto out of fear. He wondered just what this bet would cost him in the end.

Shiro rinsed the remaining suds from his body and pulled back the shower curtain. Someone had taken his soiled clothing without him noticing. The only stitch left in that room was a zebra print bathrobe left hanging on the back of the bathroom door. For a full minute Shiro seriously considered walking back into the pink room stark naked or wearing the dingy shower curtain if only to spite Mephisto.

He desperately wanted a smoke.

The pink room had been transformed by the time Shiro returned from his shower. The recliner and end table had been removed. In its place was a small circular dinette with two places set on either side. Mephisto had settled himself in one of those places and was pouring tea for the two of them. Two steaming styrofoam ramen cups had been set out.

Shiro hadn't realized how hungry he had been. The meal was too salty, too starchy, and the best thing he had ever tasted. As he chewed his head cleared and the headache that had been pounding behind his eyes eased. They ate in silence. Mephisto said not one word until the meal was finished and they were sipping tea. "We need to decide how to move forward."

Shiro leaned over his cup. He laced his hands together and set his chin on top of them. "Just why are you being so helpful?" The question had been bothering him since Mephisto had sealed Rin's power within Kurikara and only grew as the days events continued to unwind.

Mephisto smiled. It reminded Shiro of oil pooling over water. "Well Fujimoto-kun, it wouldn't be much of game otherwise and I certainly don't want those boys dead either."

_Bullshit._ Shiro was certain that everything that had happened since he had been abandoned on the mountain top was part of the demons' plan. There was a hell of a lot going on here. This was far more than just a game. He thought back over his arrival in the pink room, Lamia's appearance, and even the ridiculous bathrobe he was wearing. He got the distinct feeling that his every word and action was being weighed and judged.

"I don't know," Shiro frowned, finally answering the question.

He had been so focused on getting off the damn mountain he hadn't really had time to stop and think. Yuri's children had been sentenced to death before they were born. The only chance they had for survival was secrecy. He grudgingly had to admit that Mephisto's careful planning had saved them.

A month ago he could have retired from the order without much fanfare. He would have been free to hide the twins anywhere. The events of the Blue Night had changed that. It would be years before the Order regained the fighting strength it had lost that night. Shiro, an Exorcist Second Class, was now the most qualified exorcist in the True Cross Order.

He could feel Mephisto watching him from across the table. The demon sipped his tea and spoke. "Might I make a suggestion Fujimoto-kun?" he paused and set down his cup. "Would you consider joining the church?"

Shiro snorted scalding tea into his nose.

"Now hear me out," Mephisto continued," You did specialize as an Aria. You know the Christian scriptures. If you were part of a church run orphanage no one would pay any attention to these two."

Shiro had to admit it made sense. The church offered him a way to balance his responsibilities to the Order and his obligation to those boys. Shiro wiped tea from his stubble and thought.

That night Shiro accepted Mephisto's offer to stay at his private residence until arrangements for himself and the twins could be made. He was guided from the pink room to an ostentatious foyer and up a wide set of arched staircases to a guest bedroom. Exhausted from a long day spent on a mountainside he collapsed on top of the bed covers and was asleep within minutes.

In the end there was only one thing Shiro could do. He had already made the decision on that mountainside over the cooling body of a woman he might have grown to love. Let the Knights think that he was a coward who had lost his nerve. It didn't matter. He would be free to raise the sons of Satan right under their noses. Whatever these boys were, whoever they were to become was his responsibility. He could only hope that the world would not burn for his choice.


	2. Chapter 2

Shiro opened his eyes and stared stupidly at the fuzzy face hovering inches from his own. He blinked. It took his sleep drunk mind another moment to register what exactly was wrong with this situation. Shiro surged forward flailing clumsily, hoping to knock the intruder off balance. The face retreated and his hands struck only air.

"Good morning Fujimoto-kun. How did you sleep?"

Shiro sat at the edge of the bed, mouth gaping as he panted. His fist bunched the fabric of the zebra print bathrobe as he waited for the frantic pounding of his heart to calm. It was Mephisto, of course it was Mephisto, who else would it be.

Shiro sighed, rubbed his hand over a new growth of beard and reached for his glasses. Mephisto's blurry form crystallized into focus.

Shiro wondered just how Mephisto could live so long amongst humans and still fail to grasp something as basic as proper attire. Mephisto had abandoned his smartly tailored white suit and was now wearing a white pair of pantaloons complete with striped tights, cape, and top hat. Shiro examined his anachronistic outfit and then cringed at the sight of a bundle of clothes tucked under the demon's arm presumably for him to wear.

"I need to take a leak," Shiro announced.

Unfortunately the crude statement did nothing to damper Mephisto's enthusiasm. The demon cheerfully informed him where the bathroom was and that he would wait until Shiro returned. At least he had the courtesy to pass the bundle of clean clothes to Shiro as he left the room. They were his street clothes taken from his room at the Vatican.

He returned far more alert than when he left and unspeakably grateful to be rid of that ridiculous bathrobe. He finally took a moment to examine the room he had spent the night in.

The room was the same blue as a cloudless summer morning sky. It was large, its space accentuated by a pair of wide windows. Unlike the pink room this room was barely decorated containing little more than a king sized bed and a clothing chest. The minimalist nature of the room put Shiro at ease.

Mephisto stood in the center of the room like some great white pimple.

_Eins_

_Zwei_

_Drei_

The demon snapped his fingers. A great cloud and the scent of cotton candy filled the room. When the cloud faded so did Shiro's peace of mind.

The room was suddenly cluttered with every type of infant care supply Shiro could think of and quiet a few things Shiro had never seen before. Buried in the center of the boxes of diapers, wipes, and formula was the pink bassinet with the twins secured within. Lamia was draped over the side like a demented blue skinned Vanna White.

"Where did all this come from?" Shiro demanded when he expelled the last vestiges of cotton candy from his lungs.

"I did some shopping," Mephisto was extraordinarily pleased with himself. It was making Shiro twitch.

"We should celebrate Fujimoto-kun!" Mephisto was bouncing. "Do you know how long it's been since I have had new brothers? This is a rare and joyous occasion." He bent over the boys chattering happily as he attached a mobile of dancing Mephistos to the side of the bassinet. Shiro was reminded very strongly of a twelve year old boy who had just been given his first puppy. Maybe Mephisto would calm down after the novelty of the situation had worn of.

Joy was hardly the first emotion he would associate with the birth of Satan's offspring. It might be that not killing them was the worst mistake he would ever make. The memory of Yuri's selflessness and the way Rin had laughed innocently in the face of his executioner had left him unsettled. He had always been a simple creature who solved his problems efficiently and rationally. Demons are a threat to humanity therefore demons must be exorcised. It was a practical solution to a dangerous problem. Only there was nothing about this situation that was simple or rational.

He did not feel the slightest bit of affection for these boys, only a great deal of regret when he thought of their stupidly kind mother. Satan had used her as an incubator and her father had handed her over to be killed in the most horrific manner possible. Shiro understood his own motivations far too late. He had chased her through the mountains not because of any potential threat she presented, but because he had wanted to protect her. Instead he had failed her in every way imaginable and now all he could do was try to carry out her dying wish.

Shiro allowed the demons to fuss over the boys and faded into the background as much as possible. He tolerated Mephisto's boisterous energy, avoided Lamia's flirtations, and kept careful stock of his holy water and blessed bullets. Until a place could be found where he could raise the twins he had no other choice but to rely on Mephisto. For a man who built his reputation on competence and ability; the sudden dependence irritated him like an itch between the shoulder blades.

Shiro was so stir crazy by the end of the third day he decided to return to the mountain to face the creature that had pursued him. He wanted the simplicity of a fight to work off the frustration burrowing into his chest as each idle day passed. The next morning Shiro ate the breakfast Mephisto had provided, dressed in the clothes Mephisto had left for him to wear, and loaded the twins into a stroller Mephisto had provided for his use.

The twins had been downgraded from responsibility and possible threat to ravenous shit machines. He was tired, worn ragged by their irregular sleep cycle and Lamia's constant intrusion into the room he shared with the infants. He ached for a moment of quiet, for the solid security of his rooms at the Vatican. More than once Shiro found himself wishing he could simply drop them at the first orphanage he came across and forget about them.

Shiro found Mephisto in an elegant sun room conservatively decorated in dark earthy tones. The demon was sitting at a white wicker patio set lazily eating a bowl of gelato. He greeted Shiro cheerfully as the exorcist wheeled the boys to the wicker table and sat in the chair opposite.

"Mephisto, I want to go back, find out what was chasing me through the woods." He said without preamble, determined that this time Mephisto would not stop him from taking action.

Mephisto continued to eat slowly until he had finished the gelato. Then he lifted the delicate spoon and carefully licked the remaining sticky residue with a cat's concentration before setting the spoon down and turning to regard Shiro with guileless eyes. "Why would you want to do that Fujimoto-kun?"

Shiro thought the answer should have been obvious. "Whatever that thing is, it's powerful and probably Satan related. We can't just leave it on that mountain. A skilled exorcist should go to put it down."

"An excellent point Fujimoto-kun," Mephisto paused considering. "But, not what I was asking."

Shiro blinked.

Mephisto grinned. "I want to know why you want to do it Fujimoto-kun. I would think that you have quite enough to worry about." He turned his gaze to where the twins were sleeping.

Shiro felt a white hot stab of anger and resentment. "What do they have to do with this? Certainly Lamia can watch them long enough for me to deal with one goddamn demon."

"I see." Mephisto folded his hands and watched Shiro expectantly. "Fujimoto-kun, are you conceding your end of the bet."

"What . . . no, I just . . ."

"Fujimoto-kun, must I remind of the terms of our bet, that you personally would raise those boys in to fine humans? In the time that you have been here you have left them almost exclusively in the care of Lamia. I am afraid that if you run away now I will take it as admittance that you are not capable of raising them." Mephisto's grinned widened. Shiro was reminded of a snake as it unhinges it jaw to feed. "I would hate to see my younger brothers neglected."

Shiro froze for a moment, trying to find an appropriate response. He had never seen such a wicked looking expression on the demon's face. It reminded him that despite the months they had searched for Yuri and the Koma sword he knew almost nothing about Mephisto. "Wait a minute; you said that would only happen if they woke to their true nature as demons."

Mephisto's eyes narrowed. "Fujimoto-kun, do you understand what a demon is?"

_What is that supposed to mean?_ Of course he knew what demons were. He had been fighting them his entire adult life. He was getting tired of Mephisto's cryptic bullshit.

Mephisto sighed, "Fujimoto-kun, it would be pointless for me to tell you," He frowned, "Honestly, I thought you would have learned that much from Yuri."

Like a bulldog stung by a choke chain Shiro stopped his attack. It was strange to think how one simple event had so drastically changed his relationship with her. Three years ago he had been assigned to the Vatican, valued not only for his skill, but for his cool headed detachment when carrying out his assignments. His demeanor was noted by the conniving bishops and cardinals; soon he was being assigned to the tasks that required secrecy for fear they would cause a scandal. He moved amongst the Vatican's dignitaries like a panther amongst sheep.

He had met the Cardinal's pretty daughter after one such mission. He had been reporting back when she had come into her father's office, announcing herself with a timid knock. She had been wearing the uniform of an exorcist, fiddling with the ornamental pin as her father ignored her entrance. She was self conscious enough that Shiro guessed she had only recently made her qualifications. He learned later that her father had pushed her into the order when he learned she had talent as a tamer.

Shiro had dismissed her as the pampered child of a wealthy family and had forgotten about her. In fairness she was easily forgettable; quiet by nature she tended to defer to the people around her. She could have enjoyed a great deal of popularity with in the order due to her family position and beauty, but like Shiro she seemed to enjoy fading in to the background.

When he found her after that fateful mission she had been so completely changed Shiro felt like a fool for not suspecting she was possessed. She had challenged him, argued with him, and sent him back to the Vatican empty handed. Shiro complied, after all he had only been sent to find her, not return her to her father. At the time it had hardly seemed worth the trouble.

Now he wondered just how much of her odd behavior had been Satan's influence and how much was her acting out of her own desires. Given all that had happened he could hardly believe she had been on good terms with her father. It was possible Satan had used her own frustrations to manipulate her; first into going in to isolation and then in to bearing his children. What didn't make sense were her actions at the Vatican. She had knowingly put her life and the lives of her unborn children at risk by blatantly admitting they were Satan's offspring. She could have let the Cardinal believe Shiro was the father and no one would have been the wiser until the brats were born. Unless she had been sincere in her belief that humans and demons could co-exist. Unless she believed her father would protect her.

Shiro wished that he had known her better. As strange a girl as she had been it had taken real courage to stand up to the Grigori. It was something Shiro admired.

That kind of courage deserved a reward. He owed it to her to do everything in his power to protect her children. It was too depressing to think that the only people in the world who didn't want these boys dead were a manipulative demon and a crusty exorcist. It would be the mother of all miracles if they lived to see their second year.

Mephisto was right, he had been so busy simmering in resentment that he had hardly given any thought to the needs of his two wards. He had been so damn determined coming down that mountain, but when called to back up his determination with action he had failed miserably. The truth was he was afraid; afraid of what the future would bring, afraid of how his life must change now that he was adopting two half-human children.

"Be patient Fujimoto-kun," Mephisto said seemingly sensing Shiro's surrender, "That thing will be dealt with in good time. We couldn't bury Egin-san otherwise."

It was an odd thing for Mephisto to be concerned with and Shiro said as much. Mephisto smiled silkily, "Would you care for some gelato, Fujimoto-kun?"

Fujimoto accepted his offer as an apology. It marked the beginning of a truce between the exorcist and the demon; a moment which was soon interrupted when the twins began to fuss. For the first time since his arrival Shiro was hovering at the crib side before Lamia could arrive. Mephisto watched, something close to satisfaction flitting across his face.

_Hips._ It was the first thought that crossed his mind as Lamia moved towards the crib. How any creature could manage to move like that without falling over was beyond him. Shiro looked up to see the succubus smile with sleazy confidence. He had been caught watching her swaying thighs.

He really had picked the wrong damn week to quit smoking.

Lamia lifted Rin from the bassinet with a confidence Shiro didn't possess. She produced a bottle and started to feed the child. Shiro tentatively reached for Yukio. He would never have believed before now that a human started life with an eggshell's delicacy. Now he had the proof cradled between his broad calloused hands. The kid was just so damn tiny.

He pulled the boy closer to his chest, feeling the warm pulse of life between his hands. Like his mother Yukio had a collection of moles dotted across his rounded cheeks. His fingers folded against his palms, and limbs furled close to his torso; Yukio was squinting up at him and pouting. Shiro lifted the boy closer to his face and frowned.

Lamia started to laugh. She was watching Shiro as she fed Rin. "Staring contest, Shiro-chan?" She laughed again and turned back to Rin.

Shiro felt a stab of anger as he blushed. It passed quickly. He supposed he did look rather foolish. "How did you know Rin was hungry?" If it weren't for the moles he wouldn't have been able to tell the two apart, never mind being able to tell why they were crying.

"He was sucking on the blanket,"

"Aah." A pause broken only by the sound of Rin's eating.

Lamia pulled the bottle away and lifted the boy to be burped. She grinned at him, taking a great deal of enjoyment from his discomfort. "Shiro-chan, why don't you try talking to him?"

"Talk?" He was supposed to talk to them?

Lamia snorted, "Yes. Talk. Speak. How else is he supposed to get to know you?"

_Oh hell. _He thought back to the few times he had been around small children. He remembered how their mothers hovered around them spouting nonsense words with suitably grating falsetto voices. _Nope_. The twins would just have to get used to his gruff manner of speaking.

"Well kid," He started quietly, awkwardly, "Looks like your stuck with me. Boy did you ever get screwed." Yukio squinted, trying to get a better look as Shiro spoke. "So let's make a deal; I gave up smoking in return promise you won't turn into some sort of three headed flame spewing hellbeast when you hit puberty."

Yukio blinked and gurgled. Shiro could feel Lamia's annoyance from across the room. Mephisto was smirking, content to bask in the chaos. In retrospect it had probably not been the best thing to say. A moment later Yukio turned his face Shiro's chest and started to suck at his shirt in a fruitless search for a breast.

Life fell in to a comfortable routine after that. Shiro devoted himself to caring for the twins. He found that he was so busy he no longer had time to brood or simmer in resentment. He learned the cues the twins used when they were hungry, he learned how often they needed to be burped, and could now change diapers like a champion. Lamia remained at the mansion, but over the passing days she was more of a mentor than an active caretaker. She seemed strangely depressed by the new development. Shiro found it hard to believe that anyone would enjoy the menial tasks of taking care of two infants.

Finally spending time with the boys he was able to see the first stirrings of personality in them. Rin was disgustingly cheerful. When he wasn't sleeping or eating he was smiling or laughing. Shiro was starting to wonder if the kid had brain damage, no one was that happy all the time. Yukio was another matter. He was quiet and pale. He spent his time staring, examining the world with solemn blue eyes. When Shiro would speak Yukio would turn towards him, listening silently to his voice. Shiro did his best to watch his language when he was around them. It wouldn't do to teach them his entire vocabulary of expletives before they reached kindergarten. The twins were small, and warm, and helpless. No on had ever needed Shiro as badly as these boys. It was a sobering thought.

Shiro woke the morning of the seventh day, his mouth burning with bile. It had been years since he had dreamed about his parents, but those dreams remained as unpleasant as ever. He rose, headed to the bathroom to rinse out his mouth. Lamia stalked in a moment later bearing his neatly folded uniform. She dropped the clothes on the foot of his bed then walked to crib where the twins were just starting to wake. It was his True Cross uniform. Something must have happened. Shiro dressed silently gave a nod of acknowledgement to Lamia before leaving her to look after the sleeping twins. Mephisto was waiting to great him as he stepped into the hallway.

"Sleep well Fujimoto-kun?" The demon grinned toothily.

"Did something happen?" Shiro ignored the question.

"The Grigori are holding an inquiry . They want to speak to you."

"I thought you already took care of that." He shrugged into his overcoat.

Mephisto laughed. "So adorable Fumjimoto-kun. I've held them off as long as I could. Of course they want to see you."

Mephisto reached into his cape and drew out the key that would take them to the Vatican. Shiro wondered how long Mephisto had been known about the inquiry. This all seemed a little too premeditated. It didn't matter. He needed to deal with this. Together the demon and the exorcist stepped through the doorway.


	3. Chapter 3

At work 6 of our 9 reactors were down for maintenence over Easter, which meant I had plenty of time to read, write, and count dust motes floating across the ceiling. So this chapter is done a good two weeks earlier then planned.

Thanks to everyone who has read this far- view counts motivate me. I am incredibly flattered that anyone would think to add this little story of mine to their follows/favs. And giant soft pretzels for the people who reviewed. Thanks for the encouragement!

I am going to continue to respond to reviews through PM. I am hoping to update consistently once a month, but since I do most of my writing at work it may not happen that way.

Sorry Yuro-Faita911- no Lamia or babies in this chapter- They might make an appearance in the next one. I missed writing for them.

Thanks so much for reading :)

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"I wonder what happened while we were away." Mephisto mused. Shiro trailed behind him, brooding as they stepped onto the open air walkway high above True Cross Academy. The last time he had been in Vatican City had been a nightmare. His memories of that night were an indistinct blur of chaos and movement. The blue flames, the smell of meat roasting and the moans of the dying had been everywhere.

Mephisto was brimming with enthusiasm, whistling and practically skipping as they neared the other end of the walkway. If his behavior was anything to judge by this was going to be an intense interrogation. Fear jarred him. There was no way they could have figured out what he had done, not when he could barely believe it himself.

They reached the end of the walkway and entered the solid doors that lead to Headquarters. Mephisto left him and ascended the stairs to sit in the gallery with the rest of the Japanese Branch representatives. Shiro paused and squinted against the glare of the chandelier. Peering down from the galleries that encircled the room were the masked men and women who represented the different branches of the order. The three Grigori were seated directly in the gallery in front of him and above them sat the aging Law Enforcement Director, Natalia Azevedo. Shiro felt a bit like he was trapped in a fish bowl being glared at by a flock of well dressed pigeons. Mephisto grinned at Shiro and gave him two thumbs up.

Azevedo silenced the quiet murmurs coming from the balconies and called the meeting to order with a bang of her gavel. Her wizened hands motioned towards Shiro. "First Class Exorcist Shiro Fujimoto, take the witness stand." He watched him with narrowed dark eyes as he mounted the steps.

"We call this meeting of the High Council to order on this day January the third year of our lord 1996, We are holding this inquiry to investigate the actions of First Class Exorcist Inspector Shiro Fujimoto during the events leading up to the exorcism of Satan's offspring. The chief examiner will be Melchior of the Grigori"

. Shiro turned to look at the eldest of the Grigori. He had sat as an advisor to the Order since Shiro was training at True Cross Academy. The ancient face was motionless behind the thick veils covering his face. The Grigori rarely acted as examiners, instead choosing to listen and advise after interrogations. In the silence Shiro could hear the busy hands of a stenographer. "Fujimoto-san, tell us how you first became involved with Junior Exorcist Second Class Yuri Egin." Shiro watched with fascination as Melchior spoke through his long white beard. The voice was surprisingly animated and firm for such an old man.

It was safe to tell the truth about this. "I met Exorcist Egin only a handful of times before she disappeared." He stopped, swallowed to moisten his dry mouth. The Grigori seemed to be waiting for him to say more.

"Tell us what you know about Cardinal Ernst Egin.

The light from the Chandalier was almost overpowering, making the room uncomfortably hot. Maybe that was why they forced witnesses to stand directly beneath the thing. "I worked with Cardinal Egin while I was assigned to the Vatican."

"And how close would you say the two of you were?"

"I sometimes took assignments from him. I was no closer to him than any other official I worked with."

Melchior's lips twitched and his hands crept up to tangle in his white beard. "Fujimoto-san, If you had no particular connection with the Egin family why then did he select you to find his daughter after her disappearance? Why didn't he make a request officially through the Order?"

Shiro paused taken off guard for a moment. "Junior Exorcist Egin initially refused to come home after her mission was complete. She kept contact with Cardinal Egin without giving away her location. He probably thought she was safe and saw no reason to involve the Order." It was also an effective way to keep the matter quiet. The Order would have sent a team of exorcists to track down the child of a high ranking Vatican official. It would be much easier to keep a secret if only he was involved. It would be much easier to protect the Cardinal's position if something went wrong.

Shiro continued without prompting. "I went to the region in Austria where she disappeared and began my search. I managed to find her by following rumors of a witch living somewhere on the mountains around the village where she was last seen."

Shiro cleared his throat wishing he had some water to soothe his suddenly dry mouth. "She was living alone in a cabin. I tried to convince her to return to the Vatican, but she refused. It was then that I learned she was openly fraternizing with demons."

"What sort of demons?" Melchior cut in sharply.

"I only saw Hobgoblins and snowmen, low level mischief makers." Shiro waited a moment for further interruption before continuing. "I reported back to the Cardinal, told him what I had found. He ordered me to bring her home by any means necessary."

His collar felt tighter. Just how damn hot was this room going to get? "I . . . when I returned I tried to exorcize the demons. Yuri, Exorcist Egin, begged me to stop. She got angry when I didn't. The next thing I knew she was covered in blue flames."

It had been worse than that. He remembered how her face twisted beyond recognition with hatred, her thin lips pulled back into a grimace over rows of sharpened teeth. Her face had lengthened cheeks and chin becoming sharp razor edges. She had growled and slobbered, her tongue hanging inhumanly from her mouth. Her eyes had glowed like coals in a brazier.

Then there was her voice. It was Satan speaking through her and while he could hear the faint sounds of her feminine alto it was overlaid by a harsh male bass echoing like words spoken in a cave. And what words they were; obscenities that Shiro himself never thought to use.

Distantly he heard the disturbance in the crowd above him. "Fujimoto-san, with all due respect, how are you still alive?"

Shiro had wondered that himself as he carried Yuri to bed. His overcoat had been torn to shreds and the smell of sun baked concrete clung to him for a month. "Exorcist Egin collapsed. I believe the strength of Satan's power and her pregnancy weakened her so that she was unable to fight for extended periods of time."

"Extended periods of time? You mean you fought Satan?" Melchior bellowed incredulously, half rising from his seat.

Shiro shook his head and spoke, "I avoided getting killed until Yuri collapsed." That was hardly the same thing as getting in a fight.

Words and conversations muddled the air once more. Shiro could hear the whisperings of disbelief and awe. Azevedo was banging the gavel once again, yelling for order. Melchior seemed particularly indignant.

"Continue Fujimoto-san." Azevedo spoke after the disturbance had settled.

"I brought Yuri back to the Vatican. When it was discovered she was pregnant I was arrested by Order of Cardinal Egin. I was in prison until the Blue Night."

There were nervous voices speaking softly in the balconies. Melchior's hand was twisted so tightly in his beard Shiro was certain he would pull out the hair.

Shiro felt the familiar, insistent throb of guilt. He had been so certain that bringing her back to the Vatican had been the right thing to do. He felt her ghost as he stood under the accusing eyes of the Grigori. How much worse had it been for her to stand here pleading her doomed cause. If anyone had the strength and compassion to raise those boys it would have been her. The only thing Shiro was certain of was that he was a poor substitute.

"Was there any indication that Cardinal Egin had any contact with his daughter during her isolation?" Melchior was speaking again.

"No, none at all." Shiro frowned. He had already answered this question.

"How would you describe the relationship between the Cardinal and his daughter when she returned to the Vatican?" Melchior was stroking his beard, knobby knuckles pressed prominently into the white hairs.

Was he fucking kidding? "Things between them were . . . not good." And wasn't that putting it lightly. Melchior was glaring at him, like he had expected him to say something else. Shiro was starting to wonder what the point of this inquiry was. They didn't seem all that concerned with the possibility that he had failed his mission.

"Is there anything else you can tell us, anything unusual about the Egin's?" Melchior's voice was sharp, agitated.

Shiro's confusion continued to grow. He wasn't sure what Melchior expected him to say or why he was so obsessed with the Cardinal and his daughter. "No, nothing."

" On October 31st 1995 yourself and Director Pheles were ordered to find and exorcise Yuri Egin and the spawn of Satan. Were you successful?" Azevedo was speaking in official tones. Apparently Melchior had had his say for now.

"Yes. Junior Exorcist Egin died before she could give birth. We found her body. There was no need to take further action." This was the lie he and Mephisto had agreed upon day before. Nothing had happened on the mountain. Yuri died and her children had died before they could take their first breath. There was no need to worry about the two helpless boys he had left under the care of a succubus because they had never existed in the first place.

"Then what did you do with Yuri Egin's body?"

_Shit._ It was one question Shiro and Mephisto had never discussed. Of course they would want a body. Oh he could tell them where she was easily enough, but an examination would show she had given birth before she died. His mind raced, grasping for a suitable excuse. He looked briefly towards the galleries, but Mephisto had disappeared. It was too convenient, Shiro found it extremely hard to believe the demon would not have anticipated this question. Shiro fumbled a moment more before the lies began pouring from his mouth. "There was a powerful demon on that mountain, possibly sent by Satan. We couldn't bring the body with us."

There was a subdued disturbance in the galleries as the branch heads bent to gossip with one another. Upset murmuring and angry whispers echoed through the hall. . "One further question Fujimoto-san, why did you not immediately report back to the Vatican?"

"Director Pheles and I were trying to retrieve Yuri's body. We came as soon as we received the summons." Another rushed lie, he was really screwing things up.

Shiro waited in the silence his heart pulsing with anxiety. The galleries were silent. Shiro rubbed his eyes against the glare of the chandelier. He wished he had left his overcoat behind. He was probably sweating rings through his shirt.

Melchior was sneering. "I have no further questions."

"Fujimoto-san, you are dismissed." Apparently that had been the signal to Azevedo to adjourn the hearing. Shiro descended the stairs searching the gallery for Mephisto once more.

Two guards fell in to step with him as he reached the bottom step. They guided him from the courtroom and through the dorms used by the exorcists assigned to the Vatican. This deep into headquarters Shiro saw fresh paint on the walls. The carpets were new too.

The faces that stared back at them were all far too young; the halls were nearly empty of people. There was the faint scent of sweat and human bodies living too closely together, but underneath that was the odor of sun baked concrete. Shiro felt a twinge of sickness. This was a mausoleum he was walking through. He wondered how many had died in this hallway; how many of them did he know, how many had he never even bothered to speak to.

The exorcists led him to his old dorm room and took positions just outside the closed door. Curled on his bed sleeping was a small white dog. There was no earthly reason for a dog to be in his room, or anywhere in True Cross Headquarters for that matter.

Shiro approached the dog carefully, trying not to wake it. He jabbed two fingers into its side. It certainly felt like a real dog, and the wards around headquarters kept most demons and ghosts from wandering in. The dog grumbled a bit in sleep, but did not move otherwise. Maybe the beast was a familiar or pet to one of the new exorcists who had moved into the dorms.

Shiro explored the painfully empty room he had lived in for the past three years. The room was clean, if a little dusty and to anyone else it looked like it had been left untouched since the day Shiro last slept there. Shiro knew better. The mattress on the bed was new and so were the sheets and blankets. He could see where the carpet had been torn from the floor before being stapled back in place. The clothes that had been left here by Mephisto were rumpled and wrinkled as if someone had rooted through them. His good lighter was in the wrong place and the few books he owned were no longer in alphabetical order. All of his weapons and his supply of holy water were missing, probably confiscated before the hearing.

Shiro completed his inspection of the room twice more taking stock of things missing or out of place before sitting on the firm new mattress. The little white terrier opened its eyes as soon as the surface sank beneath his weight. It released a little high pitched bark and wagged its stubby tail so hard its entire lower half was shaking with the effort. Its lean pink tongue flopped out of its mouth. In a moment the little dog leapt into Shiro's lap. Shiro sat rigidly, attempting to restrain the dog as it reached to lick his face. There was more excited yipping and licking before Shiro could wrap his hands around the squirming body and place the small dog on the floor. The little paws had just hit the carpeted floor when the dog turned and jumped right back in Shiro's lap.

This time the dog curled against Shiro's legs generously dusting his clothes with a coat of white fur. Shiro knocked the dog off his legs again before laying back and stretching out on his bed. He didn't have the energy to fight the annoying fucker at the moment.

He heard the dog pacing the carpet for another moment, and then there was a slight tug on the blankets as the dog climbed the bed again. The little animal climbed onto his stomach and curled with its nose pressed against its little paws. Shiro signed. The warmth against his stomach was surprisingly soothing. Almost against his will he reached out a hand to stroke the animal's fur. It was coarse and wiry beneath his palm. The dog pushed deeper into his hand and wuffed softly. Shiro felt some of the tension from the hearing drain away with each stroke. Maybe dogs weren't so bad after all.

Then the silence was broken by a familiar voice that was far to close for his liking. "That lie really was quite terrible. You do realize that now they will send exorcists to destroy that monster. You had better hope they don't find her body."

Mephisto's voice was coming from the dog. Shiro jumped to his feet knocking the dog onto the carpet. He brushed white fur from his uniform and shuddered at the feel of warm slobber seeping through his pants.

He stared at the dog now sitting contentedly on the floor in front of him. The animal wagged its stubby tail enthusiastically and spoke again. "Something wrong Fujimoto-kun?"

There was no doubt this time that the dog had spoken and that the dog was Mephisto.

"I don't suppose you know what's going on here? They were awfully interested in the Egins." Shiro crossed his arms over his chest and did his best to hide how disturbed he felt at the moment. He would never look at dogs the same way again.

"Hmmm . . . in fact I do." It was damn weird to watch the fuzzy bastard speaking. Dog Mephisto rose to four feet and shook off loose white hairs. He jumped into the bed and sat. "It's because of Blue Night. It affected exorcists all over the world, but Vatican City was hit the hardest. The Paladin is dead, three of the four arc Knights are dead, and only a handful of first class exorcists assigned to the city survived. The ones that did survive are horribly burned. Except for you of course." It was the first time Shiro had seen a dog smirk. "Good thing those dungeons are warded for demons."

So that's what this had been about. Mephisto might have been an honored member of the Order, but he was far from trusted and the events of Blue Night would have made it harder for him to move around freely. So he had allowed Shiro to undergo interrogation and used it as a distraction to gather information.

"There will be trouble," Shiro said finally. If three years at the Vatican had taught him anything it would be politics. The exorcists assigned to the Vatican were either extremely skilled or had family connections within the Catholic Church. They were men and women who had a great deal of influence within the Order. If most of them were now dead then there would be a power struggle to fill those old positions.

The Paladin's death was most troublesome. His role was not only to take on the most dangerous missions. He also served as a figurehead and unifying symbol within the Order. And if the Arc Knights were dead or injured then there would be no easy way to choose a successor.

Mephisto saved the best bit of gossip for last.

"And Cardinal Egin has disappeared a few days ago."

Mephisto now had Shiro's full attention. The last time Shiro had seen the Cardinal he had been disabled by the extensive burns he had suffered. He had thought the man would have died. Then again, maybe he also had a bit of Yuri's immunity.

"It gets better. The last living arc knight and a few First Class Exorcists disappeared with him. There are also reports that members of the Order's research division are missing. And there is a great deal of money missing from the Vatican's treasury."

"So nobody knows what happened." Shiro could feel the beginnings of a new headache. As if he needed more complications.

"There are some theories."

Shiro sighed. The questioning made a lot more sense now. "So they think that I might be able to tell them where the Cardinal is, that I helped him escape."

"That is one of the theories, yes. A favorite of the current Melchior I believe." Mephisto was twinkling.

"And they think that Yuri might still be alive and with her Father."

"Right again." Now he was beaming and twinkling.

_Fantastic._


	4. Chapter 4

Here ya be- enjoy everyone

Reynardine comes from mock fable Ysengrimus. I read Jill Mann's translation last month and parts of it stuck with me.

Special thanks to Kristen Sharpe and SuperiorDimwit for keeping me on task with this story.

I own nothing

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There was an unsettling sense of unfamiliarity surrounding Shiro's room in the exorcists' dorms. The loss of the comfortable sounds that came from the rooms around him was jarring in ways he hadn't expected. The eccentric Brian Polchak had the room to his left. On quiet evenings Shiro could hear him having entire conversations with himself. These chats were often punctuated by manic exclamations of glee. To his right was Henry Toulane who kicked the walls in his sleep and would sing Billie Holiday songs when he was happy.

James Ngyuen had kept a pair of lovebirds who escaped his room every time he cleaned the cage. John McAllister would jog down the dorms wide hallways on nights he couldn't sleep. There were a hundred other little distractions that Shiro only noticed now that they were gone. These men and their odd habits had become part of the background noise of Shiro's life. Now they were gone.

There were new noises, new smells, and new people in the hallways. These Smooth cheeked children moved through the halls of his dorm with the confidence brought on by two months of living there. They watched him, half reverent, half afraid as he was escorted through the dorms by Naoto Kyodo.

After the initial inquiry Shiro had been called back to the courtroom. The Grigori were split, undecided on just how involved Shiro was with the Egin's disappearance. A compromise was made. Until they could be sure of his loyalty Shiro would be under temporary house arrest at the Vatican and that he would be escorted at all times. The man they chose for the job was Kyodo.

Kyodo was a young man no more than twenty-five with the sturdy blunt features of an ox and the brazen attitude of a rooster in a hen yard. The boy had escorted Shiro back to his rooms immediately after he was dismissed from the courtroom. He kept one broad hand firmly wrapped around Shiro's forearm as he steered him through the halls. Shiro's skin prickled beneath the rough bandages covering Kyodo's hands. The young exorcists populating the dorms openly stared as they walked down the halls that day.

There was a magic circle painted on the front of Shiro's door. And it wasn't just the door. The floor, ceilings, and walls were all adorned with magic circles. Shiro examined the perfect arches of those circles, his eyes tracing the geometric patterns inscribed within. He squinted and drew closer to his wall trying to read the alien lettering outlining the circle.

Magic circles were generally classified as black magic. The Vatican approved their use for only two reasons; summoning a familiar and containing a demon. While he had never officially mastered a Tamer Meister he was familiar enough with the forms to recognize a circle's function. He had no idea what these circles were for and that was more than a little unnerving.

Kyodo had taken to surveying the nearly empty room with a grin on his face. "Figured you could use the decorating old man. Brightens the place up a bit."

_Old Man?_ "Yeah really makes the place feel like home." Shiro watched as Kyodo fingered through his personal possessions, stopping to leaf through one of his books. "Your work?" he asked on a hunch.

"Sure is." Kyodo shut the book. "Try leaving the room and you'll get a taste of what they can really do.

"Lovely." Shiro grumbled.

Kyodo's light expression and tone never changed. "Hey it was either this or the dungeons. I'd say it's a pretty good setup for the cold blooded bastard who murdered a young girl and her unborn child."

_Where the hell had that come from?_ "Egin was already dead when I found her. Anyway, what else could be done? It was Satan's child."

Kyodo's face darkened and so did his voice. "So chasing her all over Europe had nothing to do with it. And anyway, a demon kid is still just a kid." He didn't say another word as he left Shiro alone in the room.

The next morning Kyodo swaggered in to his room, bandaged fists firmly planted against his hip and irreverent grin firmly in place.

"Mornin' Shiro. Hope you slept well?"

Shiro coughed. "Just fine. How are you this morning Kyodo-san?" It would hardly help his situation to antagonize the boy, no matter how much he longed for it. There was something different about Kyodo today, beneath that irreverent glee was a thin tremor of tension.

"I've come to get you. We are going on a mission." Kyodo said evading the question.

"You're kidding me."

"Nope," the boy's grin was all teeth. "It's already been arranged. "We'll be meeting the others in conference room four."

Stepping out into the hall was Shiro's first real taste of celebrity. Everywhere he turned his name was being whispered and no two stories about him were the same; he had fought Satan and lived, he was lying to cover for the Egin's, he survived Blue Night by making a deal with the devil. On and on the rumors went each one more ridiculous than the last. He watched as Kyodo's bandaged hands curled into tight, angry fists as they passed the rumor mongers. They walked back towards the courtroom and into the modest sized conference room. There were two men seated at the long table; one wearing the standard exorcist uniform, the other wearing a cassock. Standing at the head of the table was his old friend Martina Cotton.

He had not seen Martina since she had adopted the Kirigakure girl. A few months later she had become pregnant with her first child and had retired from the Order. The last he had heard she and her husband had settled somewhere in the United States.

Martina started to speak in a very brisk fashion. "Shiro-san I am Martina Cotton Dragoon and Tamer Meister. We worked together before very briefly."

"Tracking down Orochi and a human child," he agreed.

Martina turned to introduce the other two men in the room.

"This is Father George Halloway, Doctor, just pulled out of retirement." Shiro greeted the man with a sedate nod. The Father was tall, wiry, and wrinkled with age. Despite this he moved easily and stood straight backed and proud.

Martina inclined her head towards the exorcist on his left. "This is Youta Izumi, an Aria." Izumi was a skinny boy with ridiculously spiked blonde hair. He appeared to be no older than Kyodo.

"Did they tell you anything about why you are here today?" Martina asked.

Shiro shot a look towards Kyodo. "No."

. "Right to the point then. We are being sent to investigate your report on the exorcism of Yuri Egin. First, we will deal with any demonic entity we find and second, we will retrieve Egin's body if we can."

_Damn_. He had been wondering when he would have to deal with this. "Why bring me along then if I'm not trusted?"

She smiled. "You are just a guide Shiro-san. Just point us in the right direction and we'll take care of the rest."

Shiro took a seat and listened to the briefing. Martina explained the gear they would be taking, gave them a review of the terrain, and went over one hundred other small details Shiro couldn't bother to care about. At the end of the meeting Kyodo passed each of the exorcists a small square of pig skin with detailed circles tattooed into the flesh, which according to Kyodo, would protect them from possession.

The next morning they met in the conference room all of them carrying packs filled with supplies suitable for a mountain hike. Martina, hunting rifle thrown casually over her shoulder, produced one of Mephisto's magic keys. She opened the conference room door letting in a blast of cold air. Where there had once been a warm dark hallway was now a familiar snow covered grove.

Shiro stepped onto the porch and stopped, blocking the people behind him. The glade was scorched and the familiar baked scent of ozone hung in the air. The cabin still stood, the trees still stood; but everything within view was covered in dark carbon char that was only partially covered by the freshly fallen snow. In the middle of this chaos was what once had been a brown bear, its body twisted unnaturally and engorged with decay. It had been dead long enough that scavengers had stripped away a substantial portion of its meat. The half charred state of the body was familiar to anyone who had survived Blue Night.

For a long time there was silence. Martina pushed Shiro out of the way and moved to inspect the area. Halloway grabbed her arm as she moved off the step and pulled her back. She tilted her head towards him frowning.

"Wait Martina. We need to take precautions, make sure that thing isn't still possessed." The priest moved forward with her. Shiro stepped off the porch behind them with Izumi and Kyodo keeping to the back of the group.

"What exactly are we going to do if it is still possessed?" Kyodo asked, his voice thick with sarcasm. Beneath that his voice held a faint quaver of fear.

Martina cocked an eyebrow at the boy and threw Shiro a questioning glance.

" Blue Night," was all Shiro said.

The tiny woman's eyes widened, her mouth making a soundless "o" of understanding. She pulled thin piece of paper out of her pocket, slit her palm with a wicked looking buck knife, and smeared her blood on the paper.

Her familiar appeared in a flash of red fur; the fox demon Reynardine. Standing to Martin's elbow she had to reach up to ruffle his felt tipped ears. "Check the bear for us." The fox head butted her gently before moving to circle and sniff the corpse. After a beat he backed away and barked. Martina followed a moment late, kicking the deformed body experimentally. There was a sound like raw steak hitting a kitchen counter. She shrugged, "There is nothing in this corpse."

She wrinkled her button nose as she inhaled. "Stay here." He watched her as she stepped past the clearing to take a look around the nearby forest. Reynardine trotted after her. Shiro wondered just how many weapons she had hidden on her as he watched them disappear.

"Try anything and I'll break both your legs." Kyodo cheerfully informed Shiro.

Izumi stood staring at the corpse, his skin taking on an unpleasant shade of green.

"Stop starin' son," Halloway said gently as he pulled Izumi away from the ravaged corpse.

Izumi choked, "It's just . . . that night . . ." he trailed off coughing.

"Some of the corpses of the possessed were deformed like this." Shiro supplied

Izumi looked up nodding sickly.

Shiro reached over and scraped some charred tree bark into his hand. "So we can assume Satan was here and may still be on the mountain, possessing animals whenever he needs a body."

There was a crunch of fresh snow as Martina and Reynardine returned. She didn't say a word, merely held a finger to her lips and motioned for them to follow. Just a few feet away were a small group of snowmen and hobgoblins nosing through the undergrowth.

Shiro crouched next to Martina as they crept closer. Reynardine was pawing impatiently at the snow, muscles tense and ready for action. "Martina, we think Satan might be on this mountain," he whispered. "Maybe we should head back."

She turned to stare at him. "We probably should, but then who else would they send out here to deal with this. We're it." She shrugged and turned back to watching demons.

So, two kids, two retirees, and a suspected traitor were the best the Vatican had to offer. It would be funny if it wasn't so terrifying.

Martina shifted in the snow. Reynardine slipped out from under her palms. He barked and leapt from cover scattering the demons. Still barking happily Reynardine chased them.

Martina cursed and laughed. "Damned willful idiot, I should have known better." She turned to the men. "Split up and follow them; Izumi stay with Halloway, Shiro you're with me. No arguments Kyodo." She snapped before the boy could protest.

When they were safely alone Martina grinned and stepped forward to pull Shiro into a hug, her curly brown hair barely reaching the center of his chest. Shiro allowed himself to smile. Martina never did give a damn for someone's personal space. She stepped away and gave him a hard slap on the back. Shiro was forced to take a step forward to counter the force of the blow. He hadn't realized how much he had missed the little woman.

She reached into the folds of her overcoat and passed him a pair of pistols. "I know how much you love to go unarmed. Sorry, this is the best I can do for now. Shiro, it's been to long."

"Yes, yes it has. How is Shura?"

"She is fine, doing well. She asks about you." Martina slapped him on the back again. "Fool man, why don't you talk with her instead of asking me?"

Martina was also one of the only humans who could make Shiro blush with embarrassment. "I've been busy."

Martina tilted her head and scrubbed a hand through her short curls. Her flattened lips and wide eyes told Shiro exactly what she thought of the situation. "Yes, busy fighting Satan. Honestly Shiro if you weren't such a terrible liar I never would have believed it."

"And if it is a lie?" Shiro probed.

"We'll find out soon enough won't we," Martina frowned. "In which case, well, I certainly don't have to tell you what will happen."

She didn't. He knew Martina, trusted her, but she would do her duty to the Order when it came right down to it. He didn't know the old man or the boys. He could not guess their loyalties or who they might be working for. He was certain they would put a bullet in his head and leave him buried in a shallow grave if they found evidence that he had lied on that mountain.

"I don't want any surprises Shiro. Are we going to find anything? I don't know how much I will be able to protect you." She was watching him, eyes suspicious and concerned all at once.

In that moment Shiro wanted to tell her. She was a mother; surely she would understand his motivations. He thought of those two little souls currently resting under the care of a powerful demon. He found that he was not willing to risk their well being no matter how much he trusted Martina. For now he resolved to say nothing.

"What do you know about the others?" Martina had been an inspector before she retired. She would have investigated all her teammates before the mission.

"Besides that Halloway is an obvious plant. Not much. Go back far enough and you'll find Halloway and Melchior are real buddy-buddy. The guy probably knows who is under that veil. There is nothing all that remarkable about the Izumi kid, just a brainy above average Aria."

Martina frowned and took a breath. "Kyodo's case is a little different. He was raised right here in the Vatican. No clue who his parents were or where he was from. He is an expert with magic circles. I certainly couldn't say where he learned them since the designs he uses aren't sanctioned by the Vatican. More to the point, he trained with Yuri Egin."

This would explain his odd reaction from yesterday. "Were they close?"

"Hard to say. Cardinal was pretty protective of his daughter."

They continued moving, following the well preserved tracks of a snowman. Despite the circumstances it felt nice to be out walking with a fellow exorcist he respected. He didn't have to worry about rumors or plots with Martina, if she had a problem with him she would just shoot him.

He was interrupted from his thoughts by the sound of swift paws running over snow. Reynardine appeared a moment later, his muzzle slick with demon blood. Martina ruffled his ears and clicked her tongue disapprovingly as if he were an overly large german shepherd. "And this old trickster, he never listens. He is worse than a child."

Shiro smirked, "Trouble controlling your pet?" Reynardine growled and gave him a reproving nip on the thigh.

"Not pet, partner," She corrected as Shiro rubbed the sore spot on his leg. "He does as he pleases, but he always looks out for me." Now she was preening.

The trees were starting to clear as they moved forward. They had come to the familiar cliff over looking Yuri's secluded cave. There was a herd of wild mountain goats browsing the valley below. Shiro hesitated, remembering the corpse in front of Yuri's cabin. Then he remembered Martina's words in the underbrush. He would not be able to stop her from descending the cliff; all he could do was back her up.

Reynardine cleared the demon's tracks with one leap and looked up at them expectantly from the bottom of the cliff. Together they eased their way down the slippery slope and approached the mountain goats quietly. Reynardine moved forward and circled the nervous goats.

An aged male with two wickedly carved horns raised its head and snorted when he noticed their approach. The beasts were watching them now. Shiro took stock of the solid muscles, thick brown fur, and two wickedly curved horns protruding from its skull. The old man eyed the humans, his ears twitching back and forth nervously.

Martina hummed appreciatively, watching the beasts with a gamesman's admiration. She hadn't noticed the demons tracks had disappeared. He saw Reynardine crouch down growl, his fur pricked up along the length of his lithe body.

Shiro turned to warn Martina when the old man raised his head and shrieked. His legs trembled and blood poured from his eyes and nostrils. The animal backpedaled like it was trying to escape, heedlessly crashing in to its herd mates. Shiro grabbed Martina's arm and made a half hearted attempt to escape. A moment later the goat burst into blue flames.

Martina swore and ran to grab Reynardine by the scruff as he lunged forward. Shiro cursed and in that moment a blue fireball exploded in front of their eyes.

Reynardine surged forward as the exorcists were blown back. He raced through the snow dodging the flaming bodies of the goat's herd mates. As he moved the foxes shadow detached from his paws. The fox charged headlong towards Satan, the shadow circled around behind the possessed goat. Reynardine leapt to the side dodging a stream of flame and his shadow attacked the goats exposed back. Shadow and Satan tumbled head over heels. Reynardine moved in to attack. As the goat made unsteady attempts to rise to its feet Reynardine charged and head butted the beasts flank sending it sprawling once more. Shadow and fox continued to assault the possessed goat careful to never linger in the blue flames for too long.

Behind the battle Shiro was just starting to shake his vision clear. He turned towards Martina and bent to examine her. She had knocked her head against something when she fell. There was a shallow gash along her scalp. She stirred as he shook her awake. As she eased herself up he fumbled through her dropped pack for a flare. A moment later a magnesium bright burst of flame rose above the trees.

"Can you fight?" Shiro demanded as he turned to Martina.

She was already shouldering her weapon. Both exorcists watched Reynardine and his shadow, they were moving slower now as they tired. Martina raised her sights, aimed, and fired two blessed rounds into the goat's barrel chest. The beast staggered backwards buying precious seconds for Reynardine's retreat.

The fox sagged, strength spent, great pink tongue rolling from his mouth as he panted. He was singed and great patches of his fur had been burnt off. He released a sharp bark and his shadow returned to its proper place.

Shiro and Martina readied themselves. Satan was preparing for another attack.


End file.
